


Fallout 4 - Shattered Diamond

by Saberwriter



Category: Fallout 3, Fallout 4
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-05
Updated: 2018-05-12
Packaged: 2019-02-28 15:28:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,770
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13274382
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Saberwriter/pseuds/Saberwriter
Summary: One year after the events of Fallout 4, the surviving Gunners and Brotherhood of Steel members team up on a mission of revenge! Their target: Diamond City! Will they succeed, and who is the mysterious Lone Wanderer Melody de Grandpre, and what is her relationship with the Brotherhood?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> The Sole Survivor - Anita Mayweather (Minutemen)  
> The Lone Wanderer - Melody de Grandpre
> 
> Fallout 3, 4, and all associated locations and characters are owned by Bethesda Software (Who is owned by Zenimax). This is a work of fiction by a fan of the universe first created by Interplay over 20 years ago. 
> 
> Assassin's Creed : Liberation (Which inspired Melody's creation) was created by Ubisoft. I'm not as familiar with AC as I am with Fallout, but I hope to be, when time, money, and decent wifi connections on my computer permit.

He’d been shot before, that was nothing new. Deacon was a little irritated that the overeager camp guard who had been trying to end his life had managed to find the one spot on his body that hadn’t been shot before. “And I liked that kidney, too. Carrington’s gonna be smug about this for the rest of my life.” He winced, leaning against a partially demolished brick wall. “Which might not be for much longer.”

+3 hours earlier

“I still say we level Sanctuary.” Brigadier Erickson half snarled. He, and the surviving leaders of the Gunners had met with a group they had spent the last two months thinking were completely wiped out. “My boys want that woman dead in the worst way possible.” There was more he wanted to say, but wisely held back; this hasty conference between the surviving Gunners and the remains of the Brotherhood of Steel, just north of the failed Murkwater settlement. The mirelurks had been too dug in for any sane settlers to try and retake the land. It was perfect for this kind of temporary base.

Proctor Quinlan arched an eyebrow. “Perhaps later. But as long as the Minutemen control the balance of power, they must be dealt with first. And we are both lacking in supplies and a base of operations.”

“But splitting our forces like this-”

“A risk, yes,” Quinlan cut in. “But a necessary one. And if we can balance things correctly, it should be sufficient. But we must strike quickly. Oberland has to be utterly subdued before they can get in contact with anyone. Once that’s done, the artillery the Minutemen have left there can support the storming of Diamond City, while the third force keeps the primary Minutemen forces tied up at the Castle.

One of the Gunner lieutenants spoke up. “If they get that door down, we’ll have a siege at Diamond City. Unless you’re thinking of just dropping HE shells on top of everyone there.”

“Possible,” Quinlan nodded, “but not preferable. Unless the shelling is very accurate, which such weapons rarely are, the damage to the surrounding walls would make Diamond City useless as a base for our mutual operations.”

Erickson said nothing, fighting down the urge to punch Quinlan in his very smug face. He’d had reservations about joining up with the remains of the Brotherhood of Steel, but with the Minutemen clearing out Gunner Plaza and the surrounding settlements becoming very well defended, it was a hard time to be a Gunner. “Let’s talk details,” Erickson said quietly, even as he mentally was shoving a machete between the proctor’s ribs.

-

No one in the meeting room noticed one of the guards edge quietly out of the room. The standards of the formerly professional Gunners had slipped with their decimation at the hands of the Minutemen, and it wasn’t unusual to see new recruits slip off for a smoke or a hit of something harder on their systems.

This guard had managed to get as far as the perimeter of the hastily constructed encampment before he was challenged by a Brotherhood Knight, maybe half of the guard’s age but looking very comfortable in the slightly worn and rusted T-45 armor with a faded Brotherhood insignia. “Shouldn’t you be polishing that thing?” Keep it together for another minute, Deacon. “Hell, shouldn’t someone be showing you how to shave?”

The knight glared at Deacon, irritation clear on his face. “You’re supposed to be inside, guarding the Proctor and your...leader.”

Deacon noted the contempt in the young knight’s voice, and decided to run with it. “That beanpole you call a leader is just jawing. What say you and me find a caravan and toss it for kicks and giggles?” Come on you wannabe Elder Maxson, Deacon thought. Take the bait. Get huffy and go pout, or whatever it is you Knights do when you get cranky.

“Password.”

Well, ****, a voice that sounded too much like Carrington’s voice said in the back of Deacon’s mind. “Don’t give me that password crap. Alright, alright.” Deacon raised his hands as the Knight levelled an assault rifle at his chest. “Cricket,” he answered, congratulating himself on taking the time to go through the recently deceased Gunner’s pockets while taking his combat armor.

The rifle didn’t move. “That was yesterday’s password,” the knight replied with a sneer.

“Well f-”

+

“The hell was that?” Erickson was the first to get up and run to the makeshift door of the command bunker. “What’s going on out there?” He frowned at the noise then barked “you three recruits, SHUT UP! Lieutenant, report.”

“Knight Jenkins is dead, looks like someone got the drop on him. Stupid punk wasn’t wearing his helmet. Looks like he tagged the intruder; blood spatter about three feet away from him.” The lieutenant frowned. “Best guess is that the intruder was wearing light armor, but got knocked down by the round from Jenkins’ hand cannon. Hurt, but still able to run.”

Quinlan strode out, glancing at and seemingly unaffected by the knight’s death. “This was no raider. Either the Minutemen, or more likely the Railroad. Dispatch someone to take care of the intruder, the rest of us should march now.”

Erickson glared at Quinlan. “I don’t recall putting you in charge, stringbean.”

Quinlan matched Erickson’s glare. “If word of out plan gets out, then the Minutemen, Railroad, and whoever else has a grudge against either of our groups will happily hunt us down to a man. So I **humbly suggest** that we move now.” The acid in Quinlan’s showed how little he cared for the Gunner leader; feelings that were exactly mirrored by Erickson.

Erickson held the glare for another few seconds, then looked away. “Fine,” he muttered. “Jackson, Grant, find whoever did this and kill him slowly. Once that’s done, join the strike team outside Diamond City.”

+

Less than half an hour, Deacon thought to himself, since he’d been shot. “Still standing, not bad for an old man.” He stopped, shaking arm already aiming the laser pistol he had stolen...two hours ago? Did he remember to load it? “Step out slowly. I know how to use this thing. That hum? Totally not my kidney shutting down.”

“Easy there,” a feminine voice answered, stepping out of the shadows. “I’m harmless.”

“And you’ve been following me for the last five minutes.” Deacon blinked. When he first saw the person, he thought it was Glory, but whoever this was was way more subtle than the minigun-toting Railroad agent. “I don’t suppose you have a geiger counter?”

The woman blinked. Deacon was able to get a good look at her, now that she had stepped out of the shadows of the destroyed town they were in. She looked fourty, but life in the wasteland made anyone look at least ten years older than they really were. Thirty then, in well travelled clothing, a dark jacket over battered road leathers. There was an odd belt buckle, an inverted V, or an A missing the horizontal bit. A battered tricorn hat covered her head, and the weathered face and hands showed minor countless nicks and scars. He could just make out the machete tucked behind her back, the revolver holstered on her left hip...and a slight bulge on her right forearm, hidden by the sleeve of her jacket.

It took less than a second for Deacon’s experienced eye to pick out all those details; the woman caught him, arching an eyebrow. “Maybe you should ask Victoria Watts,” she replied, a bit archly. “And you need a few stimpacks.” she tossed him one, pulled from one of the pockets on her battered jacket.

“You know Vic-” He stopped as the sound of rubble being kicked over, followed by a swiftly hushed curse. “I’m getting too old for this,” Deacon and the woman chorused. They glanced at each other, then at where the sound came from. She motioned Deacon to get down, then stepped back into the piles of rubble, seeming to vanish. Dez’d love her, Deacon thought as he sat down, jabbing the needle of the stimpack into his midsection, grimacing as a surge of bile tried to fight its way up his throat.

“Well, well,” one of the Gunners said as they stepped into view. The two, in full combat armor and helmets, lowered their weapons as they saw Deacon apparently helpless, hand over the bullet wound. “Looks like we get to join in the fun at Diamond City after all, Grant.”

Grant nodded, an evil grin crossing his young face. “Too true, Jackson. You want to put him out of his misery? I’d hate to waste the bullets.”

“I agree.” Grant started to turn around, but something knocked his right arm up, followed by a spike of pain as something sharp was driven into his armpit. He was dimly aware of someone spinning him around so he was facing Jackson, grabbing his now useless arm and firing his rifle into Jackson’s still stunned face. He was then shoved roughly to the ground, the numbness in his arm spreading through his whole body.

Deacon managed to avoid gasping. The whole fight had taken maybe five seconds at most, and he hadn’t caught where the woman had come from. “That was impressive. And when I say impressive, I mean ‘I really hope you’re on my side.” The woman grinned, holding her hands up. “Um...you have a thing...that arm blade...thing is...”

The woman glanced at her wrist, quietly swearing. “Mechanism’s jammed, one sec.” She tapped the back of her wrist with her free hand, and the small thin blade retracted with a faint clatter. “Melody de Grandpre, Megaton City.”

“Deacon, no fixed address. Look, I appreciate the save, but I gotta get back to the Castle. Crap, and Diamond City and Oberland...”

“I can help, if you tell me what message to deliver.”

Deacon considered the offer, then nodded. “Alright. Those two lovely lads were part of a group called the Gunners. I’m kind of on a first name basis with the lady who wrecked their stuff, and the Brotherhood of Steel.” He noticed Melody’s surprised reaction. “You know them?”

“Under Sarah Lyons. Who’s running it now?”

“Arthur Maxson. Well he was. We kinda took exception to him building a giant nuke-tossing robot at the Boston Airport, not to mention the damage his armoured attack dogs did chasing Danse to one of our settlements. The Minutemen wound up taking down the Brotherhood base.”

“Hell. I knew Maxson as a kid. Look, I was going to Diamond City anyway, I can warn them if you want to make for the castle. Just point me in the right direction.”

“Head north until you hit the river, then go west. No, wait. Get to Oberland first, they’re just a small settlement, but they have an artillery cannon that Quinlan wants to use against Diamond City.”

“Quinlan,” Melody didn’t quite snarl. “That explains a lot. I’d better get going.”

 

To be continued in: Shattered Diamond 2 – Breaking Independence

 


	2. Breaking Independence

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The battle proper starts! Oberland has already fallen, and Diamond City and The Castle are being attacked! What will our heroes do?

Proctor Quinlan stepped over the body of the young woman in the Minuteman uniform. He glanced at the small book, but paid it little heed. One of their pathetic little codebooks, he guessed, then strode over to where one of the Gunners sat by the artillery piece, mercifully undamaged as Quinlan himself had shot the Minuteman seconds before she could lob a plasma grenade into the cannon’s barrel. The gunner was listening to a large portable radio, a cobbled together affair that was the best the surviving Brotherhood could come up with, the size of a small backpack, and could be used to bludgeon a molerat to death and still get a message from one side of the Commonwealth to the other.

 

He heard some screams as the small force of Gunners that accompanied him took care of the remaining Oberland settlers. He didn’t particularly care. He’d lost everything, after all, so this was a perfectly fair exchange.

 

“Teams Two and Three are in position. Two reports that General Mayweather is in the Castle, per your intelligence. Three is set up around the area the locals call ‘Hardware Town’. We had to clear out some raiders, but suffered no losses or compromised our secrecy.”

 

“Good. Inform Two to begin operations at once, and tell Three to start in...ten minutes.”

 

**Fallout 4 : Shattered Diamond - Breaking Independence**

 

-The Castle

 

Anita, lying prone on top of one of the Castle walls, squinted through the binoculars, mentally cursing each shattered building for blocking her view. “I know I saw something there. Danse?”

 

Beside her, Danse frowned. “It’s not raiders,” he said, Anita nodding in agreement. “And there’s been no reports of rogue synth activity in the area. Rust Devils?”

 

“No. For one, there’s been no ‘bots, and those things are as subtle as Hancock doing karaoke.”

 

“I really wish you hadn’t re-introduced that prewar tradition.” Danse frowned. “We’re not going to see anything here. Let’s head back down.” The two slowly got up and made their way back to the metal stairwell, only standing up once they were clear of the ledge and any possible snipers. As they went down, they encountered Preston. “Nothing so far, Colonel.” He frowned. “You’re late. Is everything alright?”

 

“Um, yeah.”

 

Anita cocked her head to one side. “Preston? Where’s your hat?” She arched an eyebrow as the normally stoic Minuteman was suddenly unable to look either of them in the eye.

 

As they were speaking, Cait, the newest Minuteman recruit, pushed by, putting Preston’s hat on his head. “We were making out,” she snapped, taking the binoculars out of Anita’s hands and quickly walking to the overlook that Anita and Danse had just vacated.  Anita and Danse’s eyes turned to Preston. After an awkward silence, Anita sighed and shook her head. “Later,” she said, continuing down the stairs and heading to the small broadcast setup.

 

\--

 

“Signal, sir. Oberland is taken. And Team Three is moving on Diamond City.”

 

\--

 

Nels Carson adjusted a small dial on the radio, his free hand holding the battered headset in place. “General? Getting a signal on the Diamond City band. But it’s hard to make out.” He swore slightly. “That last radstorm must have fried something. We’ll have to...wait.” He made one final adjustment, then switched on the speaker.

 

“...Sullivan, we have Gunners incoming. Large force, some with...Looks like T-51...Oh god, they’ve got Brotherhood markings-”

 

Whatever Danny Sullivan was going to say next was drowned out by a combination of Cait’s shouting ‘INCOMING!” and the ‘twang’ of Preston’s Laser Musket. That was followed by the whine of a rocket as the top of the radio mast exploded in a shower of metal fragments, making everyone dive for cover. Quickly following were several more explosions as the artillery pieces mounted on the corners of the Castle were struck. Danse, acting on instinct, grabbed Anita and half shoved, half threw her under the small table. There was a lot of shouting, with Ronnie Shaw’s harsh command to seal the back entrance right away or she’d barricade the back door with someone’s backside. Outside, Anita could hear turrets springing to life.

 

“Dammit, Danse, get off of me-” Anita snarled, shoving her way clear of the table Danse tried to stuff her under. “Nels, can you get it-”

 

“Trying. Range’ll be crap, but I might be able to get some units from nearby.” Anita nodded, then glanced to where Preston and Cait had hastily made their way back down.

 

“Missile launcher, got him but-” he glanced up at the ruined antennae. “Damn. Saw a few Sentinels rolling up. Looks like they’re setting up a line.”

 

“You left off the best part,” Cait added. “Gunners, and some of your old pals, Danse Machine.”

 

“I wish you’d stop calling me-What?”

 

“At least five of them, all in the tinwear. Couple of others in those ugly orange jumpsuits and combat armour.”

 

Preston grimaced, nodding. “And they’re not advancing, last we looked.”

 

Danse grimaced. “A siege.”

 

\--Diamond City, Entrance

 

Danny Sullivan swore quietly as he tried to will the camera outside to angle up to get a better look at what he was sure was a growing number of angry ex-Brotherhood of Steel Paladins. He also had a very sick suspicion why they were there, if Jeri Wyatt, the newest Diamond City Guard, had been right about seeing one or two Gunners in the mix.

 

“Jeri,” he said to the younger guard. “Go inside, get everyone to shelter who can’t hold a gun, and organise everyone who can hold a gun.” In a louder voice. “Everyone, this isn’t a bunch of raiders or chem-heads. Effective immediately, we are loading the bases.”

 

“Ump?” Jeri asked, using the unofficial term for the head of the Guards. “But won’t the Gate-”

 

“If they’re Brotherhood, we have maybe five minutes. Oh-” He took Jeri by the arm and said in a quieter voice, “Make sure Nick, Miss Piper and the kids are hidden away. I’m pretty sure this is personal.” Jeri nodded. “Tom, Kevin, go with her.” The three guards dashed up the stairs. Danny counted to ten, then: “Mark?”

 

“They’re clear.”

 

Danny nodded, reaching behind the desk and hitting a hidden switch. There was a dull rumble as the entrance to the Diamond City Market collapsed, rendering it impassable. Danny nodded, readied his carbine, and got in position. “Well, it’s one more year than I expected.”

 

\--Outside

 

“Signal, Major Erickson.”

 

Erickson grinned, warming up his laser rifle, enjoying the weight of the combat armour. It had been too long since he’d been on an op like this. He nodded at the two Brotherhood...Paladins, was it?...carrying the rocket launchers. “Like we planned. Everyone else, take down the turrets.”

 

The metal barrier that covered the entrance was tough. The metal arms that raised and lowered the gate? Not so much…

 

\--The Castle

  


It was a siege, just as Anita and Danse had guessed. Once the attackers had set a defensive line, a small squad of salvaged Sentinel robots with large sheets of metal welded to their arms, mobile shields that the combined forces were quite happy to hide behind, only to pop out every now and then to remind the Minutemen that they were still there. Ronnie reported that the back entrance was covered as well, a smaller wall of attackers set up just along the shoreline.

 

“Dammit, we’re pinned in here.” Anita fought back her first instinct, to just grab the nearest weapon and charge out with a group of Minutemen, odds be hung. “I’m open to ideas.”

 

Danse thought for a second. “We have the parts for a new artillery cannon. We could construct a new artillery piece, aim it at the attackers at the rear of the Castle, then send a force out to flank the attackers in the front. Seeing an artillery strike may throw them into some disarray.” He glanced at Ronnie and Preston.

 

Preston nodded. “It could work. I’d feel better if we had Sturges here, but I’d say we can have it up and firing in half an hour, if you don’t mind rushing it.”

 

Anita realised that Preston and Danse were both looking at her. “Why are you looking at me? Do it!”

 

“Well, you are the General,” Preston answered. “Just so you know, we might get at most two or three shots out, and we’ll be firing blind. You’ll have to move fast to take down the Gunners.”

 

“Right. Ronnie? Keep rotating the troops on the wall, make it look like we’re not going anywhere. Danse, Cait, Preston, get a squad together. Ready or not, we go in 30.” Hang on Piper, Anitha thought to herself, just a little longer.

 

\--

 

“Damn it, Nick! I should be out there,” Piper snapped as Nick Valentine led her down a short hallway.” She, Nat, and Shaun were all being hustled down to a small hidden room under Nick’s house, itself a conversion of some old sewer pipes that had existed before the war. He normally hid out a few of his more trustworthy clients from angry exes, less than honest debt collectors, and a very few ghouls who had tried to sneak back into Diamond City ever since the prior mayor had kicked everyone not ‘pure’ human out.

 

“I know it rankles, but there are Gunners and some Brotherhood goons out there,” Nick replied, matching Piper’s tone. “You and Anita have managed to piss off a lot of people, and now they’re looking for payback.”

 

“That’s why I need to be-”

 

“That’s why you need to stay down here,” Nick interrupted. “Never mind what they’d do to you and the kids if they got a hold of you, Anita’d never forgive herself; you know she’d run off and do something stupid and suicidal. Now park it here, and hope the Mayweather Revenge Squad isn’t too curious about what’s under that ugly throw rug by the filing cabinets.”

 

“Piper?” Nat pointed back down the hallway. “What’s Ellie doing?”

 

“Ellie? What-” Nick stopped as he saw the submachine gun Ellie was carrying. “Ellie, I know what you’re thinking, but-”

 

“But nothing, Nick,” Ellie answered, taking a step back. “You’d be as big a catch as Piper would. You’ve saved Diamond City enough times. Now it’s our turn to save you.” As she spoke, she took out a small detonator and pressed the button. There was a subdued rumble as part of the ceiling came down, blocking the passage.

 

\--

 

“We’re ready, General.”

 

Anita nodded, her usual discomfort at wearing armor (“If I’m getting shot at, I’ve failed as a sniper,” was her usual outlook) overridden by her worry for her family in Diamond City. She glanced at the quickly-assembled artillery piece in the centre of the courtyard, more an oversized infantry mortar than the usual heavy artillery. “Go.”

 

The three Minutemen tending the artillery, wearing the heaviest armor they could lay hands on, loaded one of the shells, lit the fuse, then ran for their lives. A second later, there was a loud blast as the cannon fired, the explosive shell hurtling over the wall, followed by cries of alarm from outside. They were lucky; the shell had exploded just behind the siege line, panicking some of the less disciplined attackers and making them nice and easy targets for the riflemen on top of the Castle Wall. The back doors flew open, and Anita led the small force of very angry Minutemen out, spoiling for a fight. Anita and Preston immediately dropped, Preston with his laser musket already fully charged, Anita with her preferred .50 caliber sniper rifle. The two made quick work of several of the retreating Gunners, Preston reducing one to a pile of glowing ash just as he made it to where the mobile shields were sitting.

 

There was a shout and another dull ‘thump’ as the makeshift artillery cannon fired again; Anita smirked as one of the Gunners, panicking, had one of the ‘bots swivel around in an attempt to shelter him from the incoming attack. “Dummy,” she whispered as she aimed and fired at the small box where the Sentry Bot’s fusion cores were kept. The second explosion followed only moments after the artillery shell detonated, throwing the invaders into further disarray.

 

\--Diamond City

 

There was a blast as the rubble blocking the entrance to the market square of Diamond City was violently shoved out of the way, and a small army of Gunners and Brotherhood Knights marched in. they wasted little time: rockets, grenades, all manner of explosives and heavy weapons lashed out, clearing away anyone or any structure unfortunate enough to be in their way. The All-Faiths Chapel, Publick Occurrences, Choice Chops...All went up in the blink of an eye. There were a few half-muffled noises of approval; some of the older members of the Gunners and Knights were familiar with Piper Wright’s works. No one was foolish enough to believe that she had been in her home when they had attacked, but they did relish the cruelty of destroying what they believed was her life’s work.

 

One of the attackers, a younger Brotherhood squire who had joined up mere days before the Prydwen was destroyed, suddenly jerked to the side and fell, dead. Major Erickson glanced up and saw a fast-disappearing figure retreating back to the series of ramshackle (in his mind) huts that made up the Upper Stands. He barked an order; two Knights, rocket launchers already loaded, took aim and fired into the rat’s nest of support beams and pillars that held the Upper Stands up. The houses lurched wildly but didn’t quite fall, though Erickson was rewarded by seeing several people pitched out of the Colonial Taphouse.

 

The second volley of explosive death finished the job, and the entire structure both imploded and fell forward, burying the Dugout Inn under a mess of rubble,

 

“You three, find the synth; odds are our primary targets will be with it. The rest of you, fan out and-” The next words were lost as one of the Gunners accompanying him was hurled back as a ball of plasma the size of his head slammed into him. “Cover!” he shouted.

 

A short distance away, Arturo Rodriguez gave a grim smile as he watched one of the Gunners drop. Still pulls to the right, he thought to himself. “Let ‘em have it!” he roared. Seconds later, the other residents of Diamond City, those able to carry a weapon, opened up on the invaders with a mix of bullets, energy blasts, and a few of their own missiles. Bad for business, Arturo thought, opening his store of weapons. But worth it for his little girl.

 

\--The Castle.

 

The mix of Gunners and low level Brotherhood troops had gone in expecting to have pulled the easy task; guard the back of the Castle, harry the defenders and make sure no one was able to slip out. Now with several of their mobile shield-bots wrecked or badly damaged, and half the force dead from multiple explosions from artillery that shouldn't have been there. And that was before Ex-Paladin Danse charged in.

 

He’d often lamented that the suit of T-51 armour that Haylen was able to get him wasn’t up to his old standard, though he was truly touched by the gesture, even if he was a bit put off at first by the Atom Cats paint job. But he had to admit, it served him well, as he showed now. Roaring a battle cry, he sprinted in, shoulder checking one of the wrecked Sentry-Bots out of the way and catching one unfortunate Gunner square in the chest with his similarly painted  super-sledgehammer, then following through and almost knocking the head off of a second opponent. Crude weapon, but effective, Danse thought to himself. He started to swing around to face his next opponent, but was forced to stop as Cait charged in, power fist slamming into the head of a third opponent. “Getting slow, Danse Mach-” Danse lunged forward, dropping his melee weapon, drawing a plasma gun, shoving Cait out of the way, and reducing a fourth opponent to a pile of green glop. In one single motion.

 

“Don’t. Call me. Danse Machine.” He was going to say more, but Cait abruptly ducked under his arm and drove her power fist up, catching a Brotherhood knight in a battered suit of T-45 armour just under the chin of his helmet. The helmet flew off, dazing the pilot long enough for Cait to strike her unarmoured fist against the side of the man’s head. The man pitched over, gyros in his armour unable to compensate.

 

“You were sayin’,” Cait asked, Irish brogue utterly failing to mask her snark.

 

Danse sighed. “I was saying...outstanding.” The rest of the Minutemen ran up, Ronnie looking down at the man Cait had brought down.

 

“Sloppy. I could have done it in half the time.”

 

Cait rolled her eyes. “Are you bleedin’ thick, y’old bat?”

 

“This ‘old bat’ can still lay you out in under ten seconds.” Ronnie’s eyes glinted slightly.

 

Anita made a show of massaging her forehead. “Children? Focus. I…” she stopped as several more of the Sentry bots wheeled into view, the remaining attackers behind them.

 

\--

 

After the attackers got organised, they were able to push further into Diamond City. Using the Knights that still had powered armour, the less protected Gunners were able to get some riflemen into position and start picking off the Diamond City citizens that were defending their home. The fighting was more personal now, the invaders going door to door.

 

“Here!” one Gunner called, quickly joined by a Brotherhood Knight in barely holding together power armour and two more gunners. “This is the place.” He readied his laser gun, and the Knight stepped forward and kicked the door in…

 

Only to be blasted back as a portable turret on Ellie’s desk switched on, injuring the Knight as the last few pieces of his torso armour failed, and cutting two of the Gunners down. “Valentine!” the Knight roared. “Get down here or we chuck every bomb we have in here!” The two surviving attackers stormed in, sweeping the office with weapons fire. The turret exploded in a spray of metal, everything in the office was shredded, but there was an annoying lack of Nick Valentine. The two stood, as if trying to will the ancient synth into existence. Then the one surviving Gunner felt something cold and metallic against the back of his neck, heard the distinctive noise of a safety being released.

 

“I’m sorry,” Ellie said, voice unnaturally steady. “Detective Valentine is out of the office right now. May I take a message?”

 

\--

 

Major Erickson snarled as he still heard gunfire coming from all over Diamond City. His plan to take over the place with a single coordinated assault had ground to an embarrassingly ham-fisted door to door slog. In better days, he would have had more troops and could have just waited the defenders out. Screw it, he decided. “Oberland, report….Oberland?”

 

The voice that came from the radio made his day worse.

 

To be continued in ‘Fallout : Shattered Diamond 3 - Requiem for Oberland Station’


	3. Requiem for Oberland

-Oberland Station

The two Gunners that were guarding the abandoned had been almost too easy to draw away; a startled radstag was enough to get their attention and draw them far enough away for Melody to dispatch them with little noise. Even so, she knew that it would only be a few minutes at most before their absence was noticed. Which was why she was perched on top of the old railway check station.

Oberland was a small settlement, two smaller wooden shacks and a slightly larger renovated prewar bus for traveling merchants and temporary labour. Her eyes narrowed slightly; the bloodstains she could pick out around the entrance to the bus told her what the fate of the prior residents was. The artillery cannon was on the east side of the settlement, just behind the railway tracks. She picked out 5 people in the courtyard, and guessed two more in the nearer of the two wooden shacks. At least another one in the second shack, judging by the unattended powered armour suits that rested outside.

Despite the situation, Melody allowed herself a small smile. It had been ten years since the last of the Enclave had finally fallen, as much through the leadership of Sarah Lyons and the Brotherhood of Steel under that worthy’s guidance. And in those ten years, she had assembled bits and pieces of her own life, and of her family before the Vault. Even a few whispers from before the bombs dropped, though those were sparse and barely reliable. A few names, a symbol which she wore on her belt. And a few pointers on why, despite all reason, leaping from the top of a two story building onto the back of your intended first target was not only survivable, but an excellent opening tactic. She took a second to check her weapons, waited for the two people in the middle of the now trampled down tato patch to split apart just far enough and…

Jumped.

-The Castle

“Nice try,” Knight Raymond sneered. Behind him were the remaining mobile shields, and the remaining motley crew of Knights, Squires, and Gunners that were trying to hold the Minutemen at the Castle back. In front of him were a small group of the aforementioned Minutemen, with Anita Mayweather in the lead. “Any last words?”

Anita met the Knight’s gaze.  “Yeah, the same thing I told Maxson on the Prydwen.”

“What’s that-” Raymond started to say, but was cut off by the sound of several short, sharp blasts. Three of the unarmed robots sagged to one side, trying to pivot to face the new threat. The remaining two exploded rather spectacularly, sending attackers flying. Raymond, himself flung to the ground by the force of the explosion, staggered to his knees, ears ringing.

“You’re too (censored) slow.” Anita glanced up at the approaching group of people. “Hey, Deacon, Glory.”

“Heya, General Mayhem,” Deacon called, waving a hand and limping slightly. “I’ll have you know I took many serious wounds in assembling this little rescue party.”

Beside him, Glory rolled her eyes. “God’s sake, Deacon.” In a louder voice: “Dez says hi, Whisper. Deacon dragged his high drama butt to the church and told us what was going on, here, Diamond City, and Oberland.”

“Oberland?” Anita, Preston, and Ronnie shared a glance. “That means they have one of our artillery pieces.”

Ronnie nodded. “Which means they got artillery of their own now. We ride in, Oberland’s in perfect range to flatten us. I know, I know,” Ronnie said as Anita glared at her. “We’ll save that self-righteous muckraker you call a wife. But they’ll be expecting you to charge in guns blazing.”

Cait snorted. “You’re just mad ‘cause she called you a gun-toting battleaxe.”

“At ease, lout,” Ronnie snapped. “I know it gripes ya, General, but we gotta take Oberland first. I’ll see if I can get Nels to work faster on getting the radio working, get someone to Oberland ASAP.”

“Actually, I might have that covered…” Deacon grinned. He got shot in the liver, he might as well take -some- of the credit for what he hoped would happen next.

-Oberland Station

Quinlan jumped out of his seat, nearly banging his head on a low hanging rafter. Beside him, the Knight he had been conversing with had already made a run for the door, where his power armour waited. Fusion cores were few and far between compared to the old days, and the risk of leaving armour powered down was usually deemed worth it.

He heard shouts from outside; at least two of the Gunners were already dead, and he heard the frenzied shouts as two more stormed from the house beside his, one already firing from his poorly cared for laser rifle, mentally wincing as he bemoaned the poor quality of recruits the Brotherhood had been reduced to. He hoped, as he drew his own weapon, that the wildly-firing recruit was at least trying to cover his squadmate as they got into their armor. His own roommate was already pulling the ‘hood’ of his orange jumpsuit over his head, he a veteran of the original Brotherhood of Steel. Milligan, that was his name. Good man, very loyal, never asked questions.

Milligan reached the open door and was less than a foot from the back of his armor as the telltale blast of a fusion core going critical caught him and slammed him into the doorframe. The blast bowled Quinlan back, dazing him for a moment. Quinlan got himself up a few seconds later, ears ringing. Milligan, head twisted at an unnatural angle when his head impacted the doorframe, didn’t get up again. Laser pistol in hand, Quinlan staggered out, carefully stepping around the now wrecked power armour.

He saw a woman, maybe his age, fighting hand to hand with one of the surviving knights. Too close to bring his rifle to bear, the Knight had grabbed a discarded pipe and was swinging it in wide arcs. We did neglect hand to hand, Quinlan chided himself as the woman ducked under one swing drove a fist up into the unarmoured chin of her attacker, then gave him a savage kick, sending the knight sprawling to the ground. The woman darted forward, a small blade extending from the back of her wrist and sinking into the same area she had struck a moment before. She rolled off the now dead Knight, drawing a pistol and drawing a bead on the other attacking Knight. She glanced at Quinlan, and the former Proctor snarled “You,” as he raised his own blaster.

Melody gave no sign of reacting to Quinlan’s recognising her. She scrambled back, using the bodies littering the battlefield as cover against Quinlan’s laser pistol, her own pistol barked; a slug slammed into the armoured chestpiece of the last of the Knights, forcing him to dive to the ground…

...right in front of the grenade Melody had hurled right after the pistol shot.

Quinlan ducked back into the house as the grenade went off. He glanced out a moment later, only to see a fist flying at his face.

\--

Quinlan regained consciousness slowly, wincing as the dull ache in the side of his head made it difficult to focus. He tried to get up, found he had been dragged out and was bound hand and foot. He was resting against something metallic, concrete base...he had been chained to the artillery piece?

Melody glanced at the recovering proctor. “You took your time. The quality of Brotherhood Knights has slipped some. Sarah could have taken them in half the time.”

“Lyons was weak, -Freelancer- Grandpre,” Quinlan spat. “I suppose you’ll blow my brains out now? Shove a grenade in my mouth and walk away? You were always the addict for dramatic entrances and exits.”

“I have something better in mind. Just one thing.” Melody walked into Quinlan’s sight, knelt down, staring into his eyes. “Did you pull the trigger, or did you hire someone else to do it.”

Quinlan had no illusions about his escape; he might as well get what little pleasure he could out of the situation. “Fusion cores are such delicate things. They can discharge and leave a suit helpless at the most awkward time.”

Melody stood up. In her mind, she could see Sarah Lyons, suit dead, laser rifle in hand, determined to take as many attackers to hell with her as she could. “You are a sick, cowardly bastard, Quinlan. I’m going to enjoy this.” Stepping out of his field of vision, Quinlan could hear Melody working a radio. “Oh, and thanks for finding that Minuteman code book.” There was an electronic crackle as a radio flared to life. “Attention, Greygarden Base. Attention, Greygarden base. Oberland station has been compromised, artillery cannot be scuttled. Repeat, artillery cannot be scuttled. Losses...total.” That last sentence Melody whispered. “Roger, Oberland out.”  She stepped away from the artillery piece. “You got maybe a minute. When you get to hell, tell Augustus Autumn I said hi.” With that, she strode away, the distant ‘crump’ of Graygarden’s artillery piece just reaching both their ears.

Quinlan struggled with the ropes, stopping only as the whistle of the first incoming shell drowned out every other sound.

“Ad victoriam,” Quinlan whispered.

\--Mass Pike Tunnel East

It was an unusually large group; Anita had led what Minutemen had survived the attack on the castle and could still fight as close as they dared to Diamond City. Deacon had taken a few Railroad agents ahead to scout. “No offense, but you’re not the most subtle avenging army, Whisper.”

There was some chatter behind Anita, glancing back, she saw Haylen, still in full Atom Cats attire (it startled the general how quickly the ex-scribe had embraced the Cats. Though everyone struggled to keep a straight face when she tried to use the lingo.) “We got word from Nels. We have a temporary fix on the radio, and Greygarden reported that someone called in an artillery strike on Oberland.”

“Right,” Anita glanced at everyone. “We wait for Deacon to get back, then we take back Diamond City. We’re dealing with an emplaced enemy, and they may have hostages. Anyone wants out, this is your last chance.”

“General,” Preston spoke up. “I think I speak for everyone when I say we go save Diamond City.” There were several shouts of agreement.

To be concluded!


End file.
